Nick Fury - February 1991 to December 1991
The handling that had followed Clint's ping pong through different psychologists and therapists had made Nick uneasy. He felt that somehow, it had tainted his newest asset with something that hadn't been there before. He saw it clearly. He saw it so very clearly, from the moment Bobbi Morse and Melinda May told him and reported to him from what they saw.
Having young Clint Barton on site at the Triskelion was a risk he was taking, because another mistake could be ever close at hand – if Clint got involved with the wrong people again, or if he was handled without good care, Nick would lose his asset. And this was not time spent he wanted to waste.
Nick had this nagging feeling at the back of his head – like something itching its way back to the front of his head, but every single time it seemed that there had been some sort of progress, the feeling disappeared within a night, and then slowly started creeping back. But, as he had learnt a long time ago, it was better not to tell anyone about suspicions. Not Coulson, not May, not Hill. Not anybody. He would keep this snake in his head to himself, and wait for it to make itself known, no matter the cost. There were too many things at stake, too many wars, too many conflicts – too much human life and intelligence to be wasted. This was not the place, nor the time to give in to these suspicions.
So, when Doctor Beckett came in to tell him, about a month later, that Clint was ready to be cleared for physical evaluation and training, something inside Fury's mind clicked. Something that made sense, and made absolute perfect sense. He wondered why he hadn't thought about it before, but as he spoke with Barton's therapist, he realized that this might be the road to go down.
Get Barton away from the Triskelion and SHIELD agents who were trying to interfere with his training. Get him into familiar grounds or at least some place where he won't stand out. Get him into a hierarchy that he will respect and understand. And, as Doctor Beckett gave him the green light, he knew that he was doing the right thing.
Besides, he would later tell Coulson, the kid's not 21 yet. And he wasn't going to go out on the field before being 21 anyway, so they might as well get him some sort of training. Even if meant letting him go and handing over to the United States Army.
*
“Let me get this straight,” Alexander Pierce stated, as he closed the sand colored folder over Clinton Francis Barton's file, “You sent your newest recruit away to receive training by the U. S. Army because you thought that they would do a better job than SHIELD?”
Nodding, Fury didn't let one single emotion show on his face. Play this close to the heart. The Barton kid would get some good things out of being in a military environment. He would always be able to merge with the training groups in SHIELD before going out on the field – Brock Rumlow had a military past, had he not?
“I believe that Barton will get an appropriate training through the individual and collective basic training provided by the US military. That means that he will be out of your hair and your paperwork for up to 25 weeks, which leads us up to July. By then he will have received discipline and proved his physical abilities as well as his tactical abilities. And if all goes well, he will have proved that he can obey orders as well.”
Pierce's eyes were fixed on Fury's eye, and he knew that there were a lot of weight to what he was doing. Sending Barton in under military jurisdiction meant that they lost any and all control over what was going to happen to him until that time that the United States Army decided that the kid was ready to leave them. (It also meant that the Army might get an interest in his, with his special skills and all).
“You sound like you've thought this well through, Nick. I'll trust you on this,” Pierce replied, with an icy tone. He didn't seem pleased. “Who will we send in to assess his progress?” was the question that came after that, and Fury's eyebrow twitched.
“I've already asked his brother, a well known member of the Army, to look into it whenever he can get a day off from his work with the FBI. I've also got some aces up my sleeve that I can send in to assess Barton's progress, but I'll keep them off the record for now.”
His reply had come in the exact same icy tone – in a world full of secrets, it was best to keep things close. In this case, as close as possible. If another disaster happened, and Barton was put under the wrong supervision again – well, Fury didn't want to think about it. Hence the sending him away until he was sure the kid would and could fend for himself in an environment he was unfamiliar with.
Alexander Pierce picked up the file from the table and handed it back to Fury. He stood up from the Le Corbusier chair he had recently purchased for his office, and Fury followed his cue, standing up and brushing the leather jacket back. Walking past the super elipse table, covered in different files and paperwork – one of which read STRIKE Team Alpha – Fury tried to figure out a way to end this peacefully.
Sometimes, it was easier dealing with Director Carter than Director Pierce. But there were times where Peggy Carter was unavailable, and these past weeks had been some of them.
“I trust you with him, Nick,” Pierce stated as he opened the door to his office. “I know you'll do him good, but I have plans for him too. I have plans for Agents Drew and Morse, and I can't wait to get my hand back on Barton.”
“Good to hear,” Fury replied, with a smile as bright but as fake as was possible. “I can't wait to hear what your Strike Teams manage once you've gotten them up and running,” he added, and the slight surprise in Pierce's eyes was enough for him to feel like he had had the last word in this discussion.
Without further words, he walked down the corridor and down towards the departure halls, where he had asked Barton to wait for him before transporation to the Army base the kid would call his home for the coming 6 months.
*
“Sir, can I ask you a question?”
Fury had chosen to travel with the kid all the way out to the base to make sure that nothing happened to him on the way. He would only hand him over to his Drill sergeant, and nobody else. He wouldn't even trust some of his own agents for this.
“Go ahead.”
“Why are you sending me away?”
It wasn't a 'what did I do wrong?' sort of question, Fury felt that. He felt that the kid knew something fishy was going on, and that there was something that needed to be done to get that elephant out of the room.
“Well, it's a lot safer for you – and for me – to have you out here. With other recruits, where you can blend in and learn.” Fury paused, as he looked down at the kid. They were sitting in the back of a truck, and it wasn't going to be the most comfortable ride ever. Clint looked like he had seen worse nights.
“I know you wanted to join along with your older brother,” Fury started, only to be interrupted by a loud snort from Clint's part.
“That was years ago.”
“Still the same thing. You'll get it when they make you go through the first ten weeks basic training, kid. And then, that's when things get really interesting.” Not only because the first ten weeks were the most basic ones, but because the phases that came after that would make Clint shine. If he wanted to, that is.
“But the real reason. What made you consider sending me away?” Clint paused, as he fidgeted with his nails. He had a bad habit of biting them down when he was nervous, and it was a tell that he would need to work on. But who was Fury going to blame for it?
“Your mishap with Zola's medication.” That was the best answer Fury could give him, and the most honest one. He knew that Barton would understand right away what it meant, and that he wouldn't question it further. A nod came, and he knew this time that the discussion had ended.
They drove for some more hours, and when he was on the jet on the way back to DC, Fury wondered how the boy would fare for the first ten weeks. But, then, news came through his private communications device and the boy became almost irrelevant.
*
It wasn't like he had never expected this to happen. He'd seen it coming, they all had, because age was catching up slowly. The news just felt so unexpected. So fucking unexpected.
Peggy Carter had to retire. Not because of some incompetence, but because she was now displaying early signs of Alzheimer's disease. It was so sudden, that even Fury wondered if there wasn't something strange about it. But they all knew – Peggy was 70 years old. The fiery woman that had served in the SSR alongside Captain America had been going strong for so long, keeping up the SSR through the transformation into SHIELD, she'd seen Fury and Pierce come to, she'd seen HYDRA defeated and she'd seen the modern SHIELD become what it was.
A beacon of justice and right. A shield to protect the innocent from evil. Exactly what she had wanted it to be. And now, it seemed that the time had come for her to step down from her leading role and let Alexander Pierce take over. After all, after Bogota and his postings in South America, he seemed like the most appropriate member of SHIELD to take over as Director of Operations.
The council agreed. They all agreed. And it made it even worse to know that Peggy would be dismissed like any other agent, even though she was still a fiery and strong woman. She represented everything that Fury liked in an agent, and he was going to miss her dearly.
*
Fury's pager suddenly beeped, and broke his train of thoughts. Howard Stark's son, Anthony, had been recently sighted in Monaco, near the Casino de Monte Carlo, having gambled for about 33 hours straight before having been asked to leave the premises. (He'd actually just crossed the Place du Casino and headed straight to the Hôtel de Paris and continued his party in the room he had booked there).
But it wasn't that exact information that made him put down the file he was currently filling out. It was the next line: Howard Stark himself wanted to discuss something with him. He couldn't disclose what or when or even where, but he wanted to talk to him.
Gently closing the folder with Barton's name on it – he was at his fourth week in basic training – Fury rubbed his one eye. There were too many things going on. Belgrade was filled with tanks, Sierra Leone had just suffered from an attempted coup on the government... This month seemed to be never ending. He put down the pager and looked up at the clock. It was also 4 in the morning, which probably didn't help the feeling of the month being endless.
Getting up, he went straight for the door, and made his way down the staircase, down to Hill's office. She was still up too – paperwork to be done, Pierce had ordered Strike Team Alpha, Beta and Charlie to be set up as fast as possible – and didn't seem like she was going to see the end of it anytime soon.
“Hill,” Fury greeted, and she looked up from the paper copy she was currently holding. He saw over her shoulder that she had barely made any progress on Alpha.
“Boss.”
“I want you to arrange a date for me.”
“Sir?” She acted surprised, but he knew that she understood his request. Arranging a date for them meant a meeting that wasn't supposed to show up on SHIELD paperwork. (Romantic relationships weren't exactly official, even though they monitored some of their agents, if they were afraid they were a threat).
“With whom?”
“We've exchanged a bit, and we're ready for a first meeting. Here's her contact information,” he said as he handed her the pager, and she nodded.
“That blonde one? I'll set it up as soon as I'm done with the paperwork here, sir,” she replied, a glint of mischied in her eyes. Acting was a beautiful thing. (They were always cautious around cameras. An intelligence agency that feared intelligence wasn't maybe the best thing ever, but there was no reason for anyone else to know about Fury and Stark's meeting, so they were making this a secret).
“Thanks,” he started, before looking over her shoulder again. “How's our Strike Teams looking?”
“Strike Team Alpha, first subdivision of STRIKE, the new counter-terrorist subdivision of SHIELD, is going to be made up of Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins, while they're being handled by Jasper Sitwell. Their field results and team results are astounding and they seem to be working together rather well, which is why Pierce ordered them to be the Alpha team. Rumlow is going ot be leading it.” She paused, as she pulled Rumlow's, Rollins' and Sitwell's individual files up, but Fury shook his head, and she continued.
“Strike Team Beta, will be agents Melinda May and Jessica Drew, they're going to team up together, as their partnership results are quite impressive too. May's guidance of your newest recruit, Agent Drew, is proving to be quite the success, so we've paired them up to be the second Strike Team. They're still going to be taking orders from Alpha, though, but they will be cleared level 7 agents and be sent out to do some of the dirty work. Jessica Drew's passed all the tests,” she went on, pulled out Drew's file.
Fury took it from her hands and opened it, flipping through some of the papers, reaching her special abilities soon enough.
“Any news on her flight abilities?” he questioned, and Hill simply nodded.
“She's been able to keep steady in flight for a while but it tires her out,” she started, before frowning slightly, “kind of like when you use up batteries too fast? She needs rest and to gain her energy back up before she can be 100% if she stays in flight too long. Which is why she likes her energy blasts better.”
Nodding, Fury handed the file back to Hill, before she continued, with the last team.
“Strike Team Charlie, that's Bobbi Morse and Phil Coulson. They've known each other longest, so it seemed appropriate for them to become partners as this specific Strike Team. They're both cleared for the level 7 missions, and Coulson's a cleared level 9. They still need to figure out some glitches in their partnership, but it will work out.”
She paused as she gave the table a once over, before sighing. “The paperwork is the real battle, though,” she added, before Fury put his hand on her shoulder.
“Paperwork always is,” he muttered before turning his back. She turned the chair around and watched him leave, wondering if she should say something about his and Stark's meeting, but she decided against it. It was better for her to just do as told in this particular case.
*
“Barton's progress is going rather well,” the voice at the other end of the line stated. Fury had called up an old acquaintance, that he knew was going through basic training too. William Lennox was a good man and he trusted his opinion on Barton. “He's been doing everything asked of him, and has barely ever gone out of line,” he went on, a gentle laugh on his lips.
“And by going out of line, I mean he did a magic trick and made one of the Drill Sergeant's hats disappear from his hands.” He paused.
“He made it reappear again, though.”
Fury nodded to himself, as he took notes of what Lennox was telling him.
“You're in your last week of basic training, did they tell you what they're going to do with him next?”
There was a slight pause. Fury had been keeping track of time as much as possible, and they were now in April, and with Barton soon completing basic training, it meant he would go on to a more specialized training if Fury's wish was granted. He'd had so much to think about lately – especially with Discovery's launch coming up – that he had almost, almost, forgotten about Barton.
It only meant that having him out of his sight meant that other people would forget about him too, and it was probably for the best. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when the boy came back, but he fully expected him to be ready to lead a team of his own. Or at least make up a part of a team.
“They're saying he'll go into specialized training, they're very interesting in his close combat skills, as well as his sniper skills,” was the reply that Lennox gave him, and it made Fury both worried and proud. If the United States Army was interesting in Barton, it meant that there was a reason to be interested (and that he hadn't made a wrong call), but it also meant that it might be harder to get him back out of their hands.
*
The month of May saw Strike Team Beta out on the field – Jessica Drew and Melinda May had paired up to gather some intel in what would soon be the former USSR. Barton's progress still made Fury happy, and he understood for every report that came back, that Clint was a good investment and a call that he had done right.
*
June saw Strike Team Charlie out on the field, Bobbi Morse and Phil Coulson out in Sierra Leone to handle a human trafficking chain. (They also dismantled a blood diamond trail too, but that had been on the side when they found out that the human trafficking stemmed from the diamonds).
*
Fury went to visit Barton in July, to assess his progress. The difference in the boy was that he was no longer too shy, no longer too sheepish. His commanding officers told Fury that he had a flair for seeing things that they hadn't considered and that he oftenmost would follow his own lead if he felt it was more necessary than theirs.
(It had been a success in two training sessions, but a complete failure on the third, and the officers weren't sure if it was a good thing or not).
Fury was just happy that Barton could follow orders now, and that he seemed to be in better shape than he ever was. The kid was 20 now, but he look more like a man than ever – his shoulders had broadened and he had gained muscle.
This also came through when the officers told him about his close combat skills – they had trained him with different partners, and every single time, he had come out on top. None of their specialists could properly identify the fighting skill he used, but it was a chimera of Asian martial arts, Brazilian combat sports, Icelandic glima, English boxing and others. Whatever it was, it was efficient. Barton always hit the weak spot – with his hands, elbows, knees or feet. Or any other part of his body really, he had no problem using his head as a ram and just barge into people.
*
August came round, and SHIELD got busy taking care of the transition between Peggy Carter and Alexander Pierce.
*
September came, bringing its own streak of mess and destruction as the old world and the new world collapsed together into a new thing; and October came with the hope of a better world, after what had happened. Strike Team Alpha had been sent on a mission in the USSR to retrieve some intelligence from the KGB during those two months, and when Rumlow, Sitwell and Rollins came back home to SHIELD with enough files to send out Strike Team Beta and Charlie for the next three years, it was considered a job well done.
*
November and the red leaves, and still word of Barton's progress came through to Fury like a steady flow of good news in the flow of world conflicts and distress around the world.
*
It was in December that things turned sour. And when they turned sour this way, Fury knew that there would be no way back.
Alexander Pierce had requested Strike Team Alpha to accompany him to a meeting with Obadiah Stane and Howard Stark in New York, and so, command of SHIELD befell on Fury's shoulders for the duration.
Pierce would be gone for about a week, to deal with Stark Industries and try to close a partnership between them and SHIELD. A weapons manufacturor would be a good ally in the future, Pierce kept saying. Fury wasn't too sure, weapons were good, yes, but so were the soldiers and people handling them. Look at Barton, at the damage he could do with a bow and arrow – there was no need to make new sophisticated weapons, was there?
In the eyes of Pierce, there was.
And so it was, that on the 17th of December 1991, the front page of the Washington Times unveiled what might turn out to be the biggest loss for Nick Fury since Peggy Carter retired.
“Howard and Maria Stark Die in Car Accident on Long Island. Thousands to Attent Funeral in Manhattan for founder and president of Stark Industries.”
SHIELD was immediately put on red alert – get Alexander Pierce to safety in the events that the accident hadn't been an accident, but the Alpha team assured that there was no need to support. Fury sent in Beta and Charlie anyway, and when Pierce made it back to the Triskelion, he got cold glares in return.
Howard Stark was dead. Peggy Carter was gone from SHIELD, her sickness taking over her life. Tony Stark, the 21 year old heir to Stark Industries had suddenly been orphaned and Pierce was more than pissed at the development. (However, Stane had promised him that a partnership would still happen. After all, the young Stark hadn't taken a keen interest in the company yet, and until that time, Stane would be the one handling it).
*
That was the moment that Fury decided to pull Clint back in. He would turn 21 within three weeks, and there was a need to prepare him for what would come in the coming year. SHIELD was changing, and Fury wanted Barton to be a part of that change.
No matter the cost.